29
Thursday morning, he woke tired. He had worked late, trying to keep up and make time to swim with Eva at 10 AM and then later he’d be taking her out for dinner. He smiled, a potentially perfect day. She was heading to the cottage early Saturday morning, so this would be the last time they’d see each other for nearly a week. They hadn’t firmed up any plans of him going up there, the ball was still in his court after she’d sent the bus schedule link. He’d avoided any mention of his feelings that perhaps he wouldn’t go, and intended to pivot into a better idea, which was for them to book another getaway in August.
He sat down at his desk with coffee and checked his email. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. One of the new clients decided to cancel. It had been unnecessarily difficult the whole way. He knew the client wasn’t a good fit at the start, but he’d wanted to make more money so he could treat Eva. He hated it when people weren’t happy with him, even if he didn’t like them. This was going to make him feel like shit for the whole week. Suddenly meeting Eva for the swim felt like too much. He needed to exit the client with a carefully worded email and work out a partial fee return. He also felt he should do another full review of all other client strategies, all of this so he could properly relax when they met for dinner.
He texted Eva:
Hey, Good morning 😍 Unfortunately have to bow out of the swim 😪 Some client things came up. I’m sure you’ll love it anyway, beautiful day ahead.
Her: Okay, but it won’t be as much fun without you 😘
Him: 🥰 See you tonight!!
He took a sip of coffee and began the strategic review. His heart sank again. Another client had gone and changed some of the advertising targeting without telling him, upsetting the strategy. He had to restrain his emotions and craft a respectful email saying their actions made it impossible to gain intelligence to build and optimize the strategy. He read his reply over several times and made edits to be incisive but in no way offensive, which he felt was nearly impossible. His armpits itched and produced a rank odour. He needed to exercise and rest before meeting up with Eva to rebalance his nerves. After an hour and a half, coffee rot had stewed his intestines. He needed to eat, work out, nap. He thought of the shirt he wanted to wear and when he checked, was frustrated to find it needed a wash. Then an email arrived from another client directing him to adjust the strategy. It took an hour to craft the response, gently making an irrefutable case that the suggestion wouldn’t work and why and a reminder of the reasons they were needing to see the present strategy through. When he checked the laundry, he saw he’d loaded it but hadn’t turned it on. You’re not thinking straight. He went into the kitchen and quickly threw together a fruit and greens smoothie. That would at least take care of the gut rot. Later he snacked on hummus, rice crackers, chocolate, and Diet Coke.
There had been no time for a work out, he was too tired anyway, nor a nap. He ironed the tan chinos and the short-sleeved button shirt with blue sprinkle designs on white, summer wear straight out of the Sears catalogue. Shaved, showered, dressed. He ordered an Uber and sat on the couch feeling dazed and spent, capable of getting drunk very fast and not much more. Sleepiness settled on him like a blanket as he waited, his eyes drooping. In the Uber, the half-open window woke him up a bit. It was a beautiful evening, the sun starting to set. He looked forward to her company, a nice dinner, and a good drink.
Despite efforts not to be, he was early, so he asked the Uber driver to let him out so he could walk the final three blocks to her place to kill time. He savoured the varied and eclectic gardens, soothing and energizing him with their flowers and lively perennials.
He texted the usual ‘Here’ and soon she was down. He gave her a meaningful hello kiss. He hadn’t seen her in three days. She was lovely as ever, her curly top, her eyes flashing joyfully, her smooth and bare shoulders catching the orange sun. She had worn her crimson stripe sneakers, and he had wisely worn sneakers too – it was a twenty-five-minute walk to the restaurant – no blisters tonight, and no Band-Aids, but he was hopeful something else would make it memorable. They had come so far together, done so much, expressed such deep affections, and it was the heart of July, everything where you hope it is going to be. He slid his hand around her waist and hoped to never let it go.
She asked how he was, and he answered, “It’s all good. It’s good to see you.”
The streets were alive with summer vibes, full patios, sidewalks awash in summer clothes, sun-kissed skin, diversity, beauty, like a wild garden in full bloom. At the restaurant, they were led through the cramped interior, a perfectly cozy place for winter, to the back patio, a modest but airy grotto with slashes of sun through the pergola at the rear. A dozen tables at most.
He was so finally glad to be there with her and sat down with a relieving sigh. The sun back-lit her curls and caressed her shoulders. He wanted a large blade of a drink, hoping it would destroy the lingering stress and fatigue. Did she notice he was off, or had he hidden it well enough? The conversation on the walk down had agitated him. He didn’t want to talk about kids and parenting issues, which reminded him of things he should have done differently. He slowly picked up the cocktail menu as if he was hardly aware of it. The Mescal Mai Tai caught his eye. It was two ounces, the most of any drink on the menu. To his surprise and delight, she ordered a cocktail as well, a Magnolia Spritz. He tried to make affable conversation while they waited for the drinks but couldn’t get a foothold on something playful or interesting. He hoped the alcohol would help. She seemed distracted. He stupidly commented on the beautiful weather and the patio. A short, ‘nice try’ smile was all it garnered.
“Are you excited about getting out of town?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Things set with June visiting?”
She pushed her lips upward and looked away. “She’ll drive up on Sunday.”
“And Jasmine and Rupert are already up there?” He knew he was simply getting her to repeat everything she told him, which made it all the more tedious, even crazy.
“Yeah.”
“They’ve had their cottage there a long time?” This was a new question but of no interest to anyone.
“Yeah, it was in Rupert’s family.”
“Forever?”
She flashed a subtle frown and nodded. It felt like his intestines were uncoiling and she could see how grotesque he was.
The drinks arrived and as they cheered he said robotically, “Summer!” It was the best he could do. All systems felt off-line. He took a long sip, hoping to jump-start the engine, and would have liked to guzzle the whole glass and order another. It would be great to just get wasted without having to say or do anything.
“I wish I’d made it to the pool with you this morning. I could have really used it. Work was a bit crazy. Clients do some crazy things sometimes.” She looked slightly alarmed, as if he was about to tell her something ‘crazy’ they did. “Small business owners are very interesting to work with, their whole livelihood is on the line, you know? They get desperate and that makes them do things without thinking it through.”
“Hm,” she said with a downward beat.
He tried to acknowledge and make light of it. “Yeah, don’t get me started on work.” He took another drink, it was nearly half gone. He thought about ordering another but knew that would look alarming.
She picked up the menu. He did the same. The server took their order. Eva complimented her on her dress. A table of four women sat down nearby. In a low tone, Eva said she thought she might know one of the women from an awkward work situation years ago and wondered whether she should greet her. She didn’t. Then a family sat behind Eva. Mom, Dad, and two toddlers who immediately started acting up, screaming and crying at every attempt to get them to behave. It was distracting not so much because of the kids but because the parents didn’t just decide to leave, knowing that on such a small patio they were disturbing everyone’s dinner.
The sun was starting to move off her hair. He asked if he could take her picture. She obliged, but her smile was forced. Still, it was a lovely picture, he thought. They declined dessert as usual, he paid, and they left, with a feeling of failure. They headed south and took the first street east to get off the main drag, feeling like they weren’t welcome at the party that was just getting going. Who needs unhappy and stressed old people? They walked a block, then cut through an alley adorned with graffiti. He asked to take her picture again against a fish that was being thrown back into the ocean.
“Nooo,” she said theatrically. It was frustration hidden under modesty.
Nonetheless, she stopped, and he framed the picture on her downcast expression. He said the light wasn’t good and didn’t take the picture. They continued south through the residential streets, but his legs felt strangely exhausted. He wanted to sit or call an Uber, but kept walking, telling himself to keep his head up and try to think of something to say that would breathe life into the evening. Every question or comment or entreaty he made was met with a Hm or an Oh. He took her hand, hoping to just enjoy the silence of touch but soon there seemed to be some reason for her to let go. He felt she was keenly aware of his every flaw and shortcoming. He reminded himself that maybe this was her way and he should stop letting it panic him.
They arrived at her place at 8 PM and sat on her couch, each with a glass of water and for nearly twenty minutes didn’t say much.
“You can stay,” she said, “but I think I’d like to get to bed now.” She got up and used the washroom. He refilled their waters and put them on the nightstands. They lay down in their t-shirts and underwear. He spooned up behind her for a while, waiting to see what would happen. Would she make a move? Despite his exhaustion and need for sleep, he wanted to love her, make her happy. Thinking she might be waiting for him, he cupped her breast, but she seemed to feel nothing. He kissed the back of her neck, allowing his lips to rest there. Soon they were asleep.
He was up early as usual and closed the bedroom door so she could continue sleeping. He made instant coffee and pita with honey and sat on the couch in the half light thinking about the week ahead. They still hadn’t worked out the details of his travel to Whistler. He thought about renting a car to save her the driving, but it seemed odd for such a short time, and then they would drive back in different cars, also feeling odd. Rupert and Jasmine’s cottage was practically next door, and they would be spending time with them, which would probably be fine but he couldn’t escape feeling inadequate around them, and compared to Martin, they would probably think he wasn’t good enough for Eva, who deserved at least a man who was more than a bus passenger, cyclist, or someone who rents.
He rationalized that her original plan never included him anyway, they hadn’t even met yet when she made the booking. It was supposed to be time with June and Rupert and Jasmine, and time for herself to write. So wasn’t that fine? They had had their own getaways and would have more. She was just being nice, it was an obligatory invite, a consolation, because he did not yet qualify to be up there with her for the whole week or meet June, which smarted. She could fit him in on the last two days, that was the reality, slotted in at the end, the resentment was good fuel to feel justified telling her he wouldn’t be coming.
He heard the bedroom door open, she used the bathroom. He put the kettle on for her. She came into the kitchen, rubbing her lower back.
“I’m making your tea. I’ll bring it to you, if you like.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She half smiled and turned back to the bedroom.
He set it down on her nightstand a minute later. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, definitively. He propped up a pillow and sat beside her. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Another nice day.”
“Hm, right. Good.”
They took sips.
“That strip last night is the real party place now, hey?” She nodded. “Used to be nothing there.” A wave of silence passed over them as he desperately grasped for something. “I always wonder which dead area of town they’ll revitalize next.” He sipped. She sipped. He put his hand on her leg. “So, thinking about your trip.” His mindset and his intended tone was to let her off the hook. “I know you want to spend some solid time writing there and you already have June there for most of the days and then it would be me so I’m wondering if you’d rather have the rest of the time to yourself to focus on things and hang with Jasmine who you don’t see much.” She gripped her cup handle tightly in her lap. Silence gnawed at his insides. “We can go on another Airbnb together in August. Would that be…better?”
She sipped her tea. “Yeah, sure.”
“We’d only have one full day together. It’s okay with me not to go, I would like to but I don’t think we have to force it, we’ll have our own trip in August. Wow, I can’t believe we’re talking about August already.”
“Sure.”
He smiled and looked at her, trying to make light of it. “Don’t be sad now.”
She flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m okay.”
He got up and used the bathroom. When he came back, he knelt in front of her and gave a full kiss and caressed her hip and down her leg. She rested her arm on his shoulder, then around his neck and slid down underneath him into their familiar moves. When he came, she moaned, and he thought everything seemed fine. He just needed to not take things so seriously.
They lay quiet. The sun shot rays between the shears. He kissed her neck, got up, went to the kitchen and washed his coffee cup, feeling relieved yet off kilter. Not going was what she probably wanted too, his reasoning was sound. He stood in the sun pouring through the kitchen window, which helped to lift remaining dour feelings. He thought she might follow him and they would make breakfast. He went back to the bedroom. She hadn’t moved and was half-asleep.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Mm, no, I’m going to sleep more.” She closed her eyes.
He nodded gently. “Okay, I’ll get going.”
“Okay,” she said sleepily. He leaned down and kissed her temple.
A minute later, he was walking up her street hating himself.